


One of a Hundred Realities (No Less Exciting with You)

by doctormissy



Category: Doctor Who (2005), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluffy Ending, M/M, MI6 Agents, Post-SPECTRE, Q Branch, Rare Pairings, River works at MI6, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, other mentioned characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-05 02:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6686389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormissy/pseuds/doctormissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After has River Song seen the Doctor for the last time (before the Library), she has settled down in 21st-century London. She has ended up saving one of the double-oh's life and that has gotten her to MI6. Soon, she's developed a relationship with one of the MI6 staff - M himself. And she has become an agent and goes on a mission with no one else than 007.<br/>Their task is to save the Mayor of Madrid and the Council from being assassinated by Raoul Silva's associate and save the city itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know that Alex Kingston and Ralph Fiennes used to be married. For lot of people he'll always be Voldemort, but for me he'll always be Gareth Mallory, so I got this idea. I read two River/MI6 crossovers before and that inspired me to write this. First fic for this pairing. Also, weird pairing. I know.
> 
> BTW, I write instead of shool work, this is my procrastination. Have you noticed that I write a fic every day or two? I just have sooo many ideas...
> 
> I don't own any of the characters. Unbetaed. Not a native English speaker (at least not wholly, I'm more-less bilingual, my gran's English), sorry for any mistakes.

It was just a normal day. Nothing unusual, really. River has woken up in her bed and in her flat, covered with a silky, beige duvet, lying next to her – what was he to her? They haven’t been together long enough to be partners, but neither it was just an affair. It was two months since they have somehow ended up together, after they both realised that there actually might be something true on their colleagues’ insinuations, and finally agreed to go out. She didn’t believe it was two months ago; it felt like yesterday for her and yet it was as they have never been _not_ together. 

She could feel unusual warmth of spring sunrays, which forced their way through the oppressively dark and overcast London sky that looked like it’s going to start raining any minute on her face. She had to blink away the light from her eyes and sat up, swinging her legs to touch the floor and slipped into her fluffy slippers. When she got up, she went to the window to enjoy the view of Kensington awakening in the morning and people rushing to work. She would have opened the curtain, but she didn’t want to wake the man peacefully sleeping on the left side of her king-size bed by letting the sun in the bedroom fully. 

She had to smile when she thought of the absurdity of this situation. She was a more-than-a-hundred-years-old part human part Time Lord, a time traveller, a spy and a murderer, who can never stay in one time and one place and always seeks more and more dangerous adventures, and yet she found herself living in 21st-century London for more than a year now, having a job and a boyfriend. Her husband, or one of them, Doctor, was god-knows-where-and-when and out of regenerations and she had lost her hope in meeting him ever again, thus she had settled down in city, of which was he always so fond of and bought that flat for stolen money. The Doctor would probably say it’s out of nostalgia, but she thought the contrary. She was happy with the way her life was drifting now. 

River ran a hand through her wild blonde curls to contain them; her hair was even messier since she started dating her boss and sleeping with him. He always said he loves her bed hair, but she always told him to shut up, let it go, stop making fun of her hair and let her do something with it. He always stroked it and kissed her neck before he let her go and have a shower. 

Today, he wasn’t up yet, so she had to make do without it and go to the bathroom alone. First, she took her usual work clothes from her closet: blue or black skinny jeans, a blouse a jacket, under which she was hiding a shoulder holster. She could never forget her handgun. Although, she liked the 25th-century ones better.

 

It was 7:49, high time to go to work. River wondered whether she should wake Gareth up or not and decided it is going to be more fun if she doesn’t. She put her high heels on, checked her (as perfect as always) hair and make-up in the mirror, put a bright red coat on, took her other handgun and headed out of her flat to the nearest Tube station. She was heading to Vauxhall, to MI6. Her workplace. 

She came across one of the double-oh agents, 004, in Iraq a year ago, when both women were after a common enemy. Of course, 004, same as everyone else from SIS has thought that the man is a spy for ISIL, on which the MI6 had focused on these days, while River has known that he was a dangerous, deadly alien assassin. She has never stopped chasing and killing all creatures that might imperil the entire Earth, regardless of the Doctor not approving of her actions. But the Doctor was out of touch with his wife.

She has saved 004’s life and got the British Government rid of multiple most-powerful enemies and that got her to work for and with them somehow. She has absolved training more advanced and professional than SIS junior agents have and she was quite the expert since she was 25 and that fact opened the way for her to join the Secret Intelligence Service. Moreover, she had contacts among the MPs.

 

She has entered the main building and Eve Moneypenny greeted her right off. “How come Gareth’s not with you?” the younger woman asked, grinning complacently. She didn’t even say hello to River and took her by surprise with this question. Eve was the one who was ‘getting them together’ in the first place and most likely wagered 007 and Tanner those two. 

River and Moneypenny became quite good friends right when they have met for the first time in Mallory’s office. Well, it might have been because of their hair and cheeky but intelligent diction. 

“He’s sleeping,” agent Song replied simply, striding toward Q-Branch underground base to meet up with the Quartermaster and discuss a few tips for his brand new inventions which might need improvement and some enhancements. However good hacker, inventor, engineer and designer Q was and however brilliant and intelligent he was, even he couldn’t get everything aright for the first time, and River was the right person to talk to when it came to almost sci-fi-like technology. She was a Time Lord and the Child of the TARDIS after all, therefore she had all the necessary expertise that might be useful to MI6.

She walked few more metres with Eve and then M’s assistant separated from her and went to her own office to fill in some forms and files that needed to be filled immediately, otherwise would M get angry about it, about her and about the double-ohs. If M was currently at MI6, which he was not, thanks to River. 

She arrived to the underground premises and walked all the way through Q-Branch to Q’s desk, but Q wasn’t there or anywhere else where would River think he might be. However, she bumped into 007 when she was passing the garages and asked him where might the Quartermaster be. “Do you happen to know where I could find Q by any chance, Bond?”

“I am looking for him as same as you, River, and I can’t find Mallory either. Anything to do with you?” he asked, walking beside River. He was wearing his usual black suit with white shirt as he was heading for another mission. Perhaps he was, and that’s the reason why he was looking for Q, River thought. 

River gave him a smug smile and an _of course_ look. “But I am sure I could help you with anything you want of him.” She pointed her gaze at several weapons the minions were examining, testing or refining. She understood modern technology better than most of them. 

“Yes, because you’re the expert, right?” he joked, smiled fondly and shoved his hands into the trousers’ pockets. “No, I’ll wait for him. To be round you is ever more dangerous than to be round him sometimes.”

“Alright, do as you like. I’ll come back later, now I must go to M’s office. I believe he’s arrived already,” she said with confidence, turned on her heel and gave Bond and the minions one last look. An appointment with her boss was more important than hanging about with Bond in Q-Branch. She knows he hates when his agents leave him waiting. Tardiness is one of the worst misconducts at MI6. 

She entered the office without knocking. As she closed the door, Mallory has turned to her on his swivel chair, which was directed to the windows before. “You are late, agent Song, it’s four minutes past eight,” he said solemnly, without a hint of pleasure in seeing her. He was usually good at holding his emotions. River’s expression was serious and hard as well. But then M’s face switched from serious to little mad. “Why haven’t you woken me up for God’s sake? I am the Chief of MI6, I cannot afford to be late!”

River started to walk to him, walked around his desk and leaned against it. “Oh, you looked so blissfully innocent under that beige duvet, when the sun shone at the bed. It would be highly impolite to disturb such a sound sleep you have fallen into, considering I know all too well it was the first time in a month you didn’t have to worry about any of your agent getting killed on a mission and actually could sleep, darling.” 

She bent forward to place a kiss on Gareth’s lips and and caressed his cheek. Then, she pulled away as quickly and said, “So, what did you wanted from me?”

“I’m sending you on a mission. With 007.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a quick update. I have plenty of time lately, so I write. I find this oddly easy to write, actually.  
> It wasn't meant to be 00Q fic, but I couldn't help it. They're one of my OTPs.

_007_. It couldn’t have been anyone else, could it? She had nothing against Bond, in fact they were almost the same, at least considering what her associates at MI6 had said. However, she didn’t think that this was a good idea. The two of them together – the two most dangerous people and agents with a licence to kill in the entire history of SIS – on an abroad mission, that could never turn out very well. It was like the times she went for an adventurous journey with the Doctor in his TARDIS once in a while, when she was locked up in Stormcage, which deteriorated into a run for their life and ended up shooting someone and barely getting out of it alive. Oh, she would bet Bond wasn’t any better in that regard. She was acquainted with all of previous failed and succeeded missions M had sent him on and she was also acquainted with his usual methods of acquiring information. She always made that simpler with her hallucinogenic lipstick, but no, Bond always held out for routine practice. 

She wanted to say something in objection to his decision, yet she only asked, “Where, when and with what aim?” River sat on the desk, and crossed her arms. Mallory sat up on his chair, shifted to the desk and dug a file out of a pile of those. He opened it and turned it in a ninety-degree turn so River could read what was written in it: it was a profile of a middle-aged white man named Luciano Bengochea, probably Spanish, she didn’t read the rest. She looked him in the eyes and he could see concern in hers. 

“We believe that Bengochea is a surviving member of SPECTRE and a former collaborator of Tiago Rodriguez’s. He was caught being involved in few rather peculiar money transfers and multiple assassinations of important _Cortes Generales_ members. You’re leaving for Madrid, his last known location, tomorrow at noon. Q will give you updates. I wanted to tell you personally before I set up a meeting with you both and tell you details, River,” M answered and closed the file again, then he sighed. 

River thought that he didn’t like the idea of her being alone in Spain with Bond for a couple of days either. However, the fact that he assigned her the task of apprehending a man like this Bengochea proved to her that he trusted her enough to do it in the first place. At first he didn’t. He didn’t trust a woman with a laser gun who showed up out of the blue and killed thirteen terrorists like it was an ordinary day for her; no one would. Maybe except the Doctor, but he always was a mystery per se. 

“Why are you sending me on that particular mission, I am pretty sure Bond could handle Bengochea himself,” she noted, playing with her wild hair flirtatiously. “He usually works alone, so why to make a difference this time?”

“You know the man that Bond is, River. This time, I need everything to come off perfectly and according to plan, preferably with Luciano Bengochea dead and you sleeping next to me in my bed tomorrow night. MI6 cannot afford another cock-up right now, not after Nine Eyes.”

“As for explanation that’s enough, you have my full agreement,” she replied, taking Bengochea’s file into her hands. When she knew what is going on about, she wanted to read everything Q gathered on the man and discover his potential weak spot or at least a pattern in his actions. If she was supposed to locate and kill that man, she needed to know as much as possible. She decided to run her own research on him throughout all databases she had access to later that day. 

“So why are you sending Bond at all? Am I not a force capable enough? And most importantly, we are going to your place now?”

“Not after a proper dinner somewhere high-class.”

“Oh, you know impress a woman, unlike Bond.”

“You are definitely the right person to say that,” Gareth said sarcastically, teasing River. They were flirting like that all the time when they were alone. River smiled, despite Gareth’s note was meant to be more of banter than something she was supposed to laugh at. 

“Never mind, I have to go now, Q’s waiting for me, and I hope I will have more luck finding him this time. If that’s all you wanted for now, see you later,” she said, jumping on the floor. She walked two steps to Mallory, gave him a peck on the corner of his lips, smiled once more and left his office with clopping of her heels echoing through it. She headed out to get to the secret entrance to Q-Branch. It wasn’t far away.

 

When River entered the underground base for the second time that morning, a strong, five metres long and blinding red flame almost made her clothes and hair catch on fire. A minion girl was being incautious while testing one of the most dangerous weapons MI6 had in possession – a baseball bat flame-thrower. Fortunately, River stopped centimetres before she was burned alive, because something, or rather someone, had caught her eyes. Bond was still there, occupying the Quartermaster’s workplace in the same way she did it with Mallory’s, sitting on the desk and laughing at a funny note of Q’s. He apparently had managed to find him, unlike River. Q was typing something on his laptop, probably running a research for that said mission M entrusted to her and 007. Although, she was not sure whether Bond knows about it yet, Gareth told her preferentially after all.

She hated to drive Bond out of Q’s desk, yet she had to do it since she didn’t have time or patience to reschedule the appointment she and Q had planned. She noticed that there was something going on between 007 and his Quartermaster a while ago; the way they looked at each other and how different their behaviour was round each other – no, she would never buy the _I hate you, 007_ attitude. 

She approached the men apace, and when they caught sight of her, they both stopped talking and looked toward her, their faces solemn. “What brings you round here so soon after you left for HQ? Any disagreement with M?” Bond said and stood on the floor. 

“Not at all. Good morning, Q, I see you are available now and I think you needed to discuss certain things concerning your latest inventions with me. If you could excuse us, James,” she replied on his ironic question with the same touch of irony in her voice and gave him a faint but smug grin. Bond decided not to make any more remarks about it and leave Q-Branch obediently. He didn’t want to mess with his boss’s girlfriend too much, especially when she was as good shot as him and didn’t hesitate and deliver the final punch. She always kept her word and never bothered with empty threats. 

He said goodbye to Q by touching his shoulder gently and even lovingly and smiling widely, and went to other side of the workshops. River thought that they are quite cute together and being with Q, James is a completely different person. She has noticed he isn’t arguing with her that much lately and he might even accede to her methods of investigation and interrogation as for the mission they were sent on. She also noted to point to Bond’s obvious uselessness in the Madrid affair once again; unless the purpose of cooperating was to make them spend some time together and improve their professional relationship. She wanted him to get back safe and unharmed, for Q. She could not bear the thought of what might happen if he didn’t, so what is the reason of sending him to Spain with River at all?

“So, what did you want me to examine, Q? Any piece of suspicious tech you can’t get to the root of?”

“Actually, I had an idea for a weapon you might need on tomorrow’s mission. However, even I could not perfect the laser beam function. It kept melting the metal, of which the barrel is made, and I thought you could help us with that, since you possess a similar laser gun. Although, I don’t know how could you get hold of it, a technology like that… if it wasn’t utterly nonsensical, I’d say it’s from the future,” the young brunet answered her frankly and looked up from the data he scanning through on his computer. Well, he wasn’t wrong. Nevertheless, how could he find out about her handgun she did not know. 

River pulled the laser gun he mentioned out of a holster and put it on the desk in front of him. “You mean this? Yes, 34th century, one of the finest. You can take a look on it if you want, but shhh, don’t tell anyone, it has to stay between you, me, 004 and M, do you understand? It would be too dangerous for people to know.”

Q was taken aback a little by the mention of 34th century, but he acted as if he didn’t hear it at all and took the gun into his hands. River was content with his approach to her and what she was saying and not questioning her too much. She trusted the Quartermaster enough to entrust alien technology to him and she quite like him. He was a genius almost like the Doctor, but he was human, which impressed her even more. The knowledge and intelligence he possessed could be as well utilised in the Celestial Intervention Agency or an organisation similar. Only if this wasn’t 21st-century Earth and its sceptical, ignorant inhabitants. 

“You would need a special alloy that cannot be made on Earth to replicate this,” she pointed at her gun. Q scanned it and his laptop showed him an error tab indeed. “However, you could use titanium with just a dash of adamantium. Its stable molecular structure prevents it from being moulded and you shouldn’t be able to destroy or melt it very easily either.” River thought this is actually a good idea to make guns of adamantium. Why no one thought of it yet? On Earth of course, she had encountered adamantium weapons before on other planets and in the future. 

Q tried to analyse her handgun once more, again unsuccessfully. Even the best programmes haven’t recognised the technology that was used to create it. Regardless that, he heard every word River had said. “Adamantium? But only the US Government knows how to--”

River interrupted the sentence he was about to utter and answered him right away, “That shouldn’t be a problem for you, Q. You’re a hacker. You work for MI6. You know the answer. I’m sure you can handle it. Oh, and only incidentally, tell that minion with a baseball bat to mind what she’s doing and what can she cause with a fire-thrower like that. If I were you I’d reduce oxygen intake in it.” 

She loved elaborated and dangerous weapons and loved to use them, however she couldn’t watch that girl handling it so recklessly. That was one of the reasons why had she insisted on watching over Q-Branch and helping Q out with developing such advanced technologies. She was half Time Lord and child of the TARDIS and she was knowledgeable in her business. And she loved giving someone advice on something they didn’t understand fully whereas she did. It was part of her Time Lord nature.

“Okay, I might actually take your advice on that, thank you, River,” replied Q and gave River’s gun back to her, since he couldn’t do anything with it anyway. He didn’t want to fiddle with objects unknown to him; he might bring about a catastrophe yet. “How come you know that much about… well, everything, unique technologies, which I have only prototypes of especially? No one else hasn’t even thought about it yet.”

“Oh Q, you don’t tell your secrets even to a friend, lover or family member, I thought you knew that with your job,” she answered him, holstered her gun and laughed. Q took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes with his hands and then put the glasses back on. He must have had a hard day, or days, here. Did he sleep at all last night? 

He pushed away on his swivel chair and stood up. He started walking toward the laboratory and River followed his steps. She walked beside him with her arms crossed, and when they approached the garage, she caught a glimpse of Bond pestering R about potentially 006’s car. She remembered what she saw earlier and simply _had_ to ask. “So, you and 007?”

“What are you talking about, there is nothing between me and Bond, I can assure you,” he burst out an answer quickly and nervously, which made River sure that it’s true. She might be an archaeologist, but she knew a thing or two about psychology as well. In those 124 years she was on this world, she learned a few things about humans and their behaviour. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know. No secret can escape my notice, especially when it comes to relationships.” Except for that part she was missing when it came to Mallory and her. It took her seven months to realise what was between the two of them and what signals was Gareth sending toward her. He liked her since the first time they had met (in spite of a certain mistrust of her, which didn’t exclude liking her) and it took her that long to realise that she actually might feel the same about him. He was nothing like her first husband, but that was probably why she was so fond of him and why she had gotten off with him.

“Because you are dating M and not making one of it? Because you’re almost a double-oh? Or perhaps because you stalk everyone here through computers and cameras on his command?” he whispered, leaning to her. Nothing concerning MI6’s internal business escaped the Quartermaster. It was as if he had eyes and ears everywhere. 

River couldn’t help it but only smile on that. He was right: yes, she did that, and yes, she acted on M’s behalf, but it was Bond’s – and SPECTRE’s – fault only. It was strange though, how quickly had Mallory developed trust in her. 

They continued walking until they reached Bond and Q’s assistant. The Quartermaster tried to keep a serious face very hard, yet he failed. The gossip was true indeed; River could confirm it for sure now. However, he behaved professionally when other people were around. “007. This car is intended for 006 as necessary means for his next mission, you are not going to receive any vehicle after what happened the last time.” He still handled the situation and acted as they were nothing more than a double-oh agent and his Quartermaster. 

“I haven’t blown it up or something. Come on, Q, what am I going to do without a high-tech car, let’s say an Aston Martin?” He really had a thing for expensive cars… and for destroying them, despite Q’s precise and insistent instructions. River witnessed their arguments about equipment, or more likely _missing_ equipment many times. 

“You drowned it in river Tiber the last time, Bond, that’s a final say. Moreover, I don’t think you are going to need a car in Spain tomorrow.” Q was probably having a hard time not saying James instead, judging by how he talked. He didn’t even know that James hasn’t been informed about the mission yet. When River knew, James should know as well, or at least he usually did. 

“What are you talking about, what is going to happen in Spain?” And there it was, the confusion. There was an advantage in being with the Chief: she knew everything as the first in the entire MI6 when it concerned her in any regard. 

“Mallory hasn’t told you?” Q asked, sounding surprised. He was doing research and worried about what devices are they going to need since yesterday and Bond didn’t know? He was gathering data on Bengochea and trying to locate him in front of him, when they were at Q’s desk and talking about weekend plans.

River looked at Q and gave him a triumphant look as if she could hear his thoughts. But she could not, right? It was impossible, he thought then and sent R away to continue in the laser gun tests. He has to take a look at US Government’s files about adamantium later. 

Bond folded his arms on his chest as well and continued interrogating Q confusedly, “Told me what?” 

“We are going to Madrid to seize and bring a terrorist and assassin named Luciano Bengochea, alive or dead. We’re leaving tomorrow noon. Together,” River Song answered him instead, looking from James to Q and back. She unfolded her own arms and checked the time on a digital watch, which Q gave her because of a task she had to carry out a month ago, and unlike Bond she brought it back in one piece (not _one_ piece) and she was allowed to keep it. 

“And when was M planning to tell me? He can’t do that, I might’ve not had time.”

“You always have time, because you don’t do much except travelling abroad in order to kill someone or gain intel, or contrarily sitting in your flat drinking a bottle of scotch on your own, James. Or were you planning to go to Q’s place and play with his cats?” River objected to Bond, deadpanned. “He was planning to tell you this afternoon. I don’t know much about it either.” 

“Yet you know about it at all, whereas I don’t, only because you’re sleeping with him,” Bond riposted dryly, clearly being offended by the situation. She was only being honest and absolutely accurate, yet he always tended to take her ironic notes personally. Their relationship became more stable lately, but James’ nerves could not take the information he has just learned. There was no reason for it though, it was rather logical that he told something like that to his girlfriend first and only then to (unfortunately) his most-trusted double-oh. 

“So what? That’s none of your business, 007. You’re sleeping with the Quartermaster and I’m not saying anything,” River replied. This conversation was heading towards an argument. They tried not to fight and get along, successfully, they might even became friends, because, let’s face it, they were almost the same, as River thought, but that was often the problem. Maybe it was because of her relationship with Mallory, maybe because of James’ jealousy of her. She took over fifty percent or his missions, became friends with literally everyone and helped Q with developing his renowned technologies, with which he didn’t trust him enough to give it to him; he usually received something like a watch and maximally one handgun, whilst River always got the best equipment he had. 

“We’re not--” wanting to disagree with what River had said, Q stepped in, however he was quickly interrupted by a beeping sound of River and Bond’s mobiles. It was Moneypenny. 

“Seems like we have to get back and deal with M and this mission,” James said, clearly relieved he didn’t have to continue in this quarrel with agent Song. He didn’t want to cooperate with her on a mission any more she didn’t want to cooperate with him. They both preferred to work alone. Nonetheless, they couldn’t do anything but reconcile themselves to it and head to Headquarters. 

It’s going to be a busy day yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time a shorter one. I have seriously no idea how long this is gonna be. 5 or 6 chapters probably, depending on the 4th one.

“Q, I think you might want to go with us,” said River, anticipating how exactly will the meeting go and what exactly will Gareth say. She had him read quite well over the past year and she did not want to get any of them to trouble, nay to let him wait or to preside over a meeting through a laptop webcam. She also knew he is going to object to her claim by saying ‘Is it necessary?’ or something of similar meaning, however that didn’t stop her from demanding the Quartermaster’s presence in M’s office. 

“Is that necessary? I don’t think I would be of use there any more than in here, agent Song,” he said, just as she assumed. He hardly ever left Q-Branch unless it was a matter of life and death or having dinner with Bond every other day, yet this time it was more of a big deal than usual. Besides, she didn’t quite want to be alone with Bond on one small boat for even a minute after the conversation they’ve just had. 

“Oh, you would, Q, believe me I am right with M this time. He might have not said anything, but I can tell he needs you there this time. Or you can sit here sulking, your choice,” she replied matter-of-factly, prompting both Q and Bond to go with her as she turned to leave the garages and head for Headquarters again. She didn’t need to look back at them once to know they both followed her, Q less willingly than Bond, however he still did go. On his way across Q-Branch, he told R to mind the minions and their experiments and hacking. She had the second highest rank in Q-Branch after the Quartermaster himself and from what River had learnt, he trusted her in watching over his staff completely. 

River checked whether she had everything she needed, a loaded handgun and a smug smile on her face. They might be the Quartermaster and a double-oh agent, but they always listened to her with more or less no fuss, like puppies. Everyone in MI6 had respect for her, partly because of her killing skills and partly because of her unconcealed relationship with M. Perhaps except for Eve Moneypenny, who was not afraid to wind her up by making fun of her and her hair (because hers was the same), stealing her food from the common fridge in the kitchen or not doing something that River told her to do, especially when it concerned Mallory and her somehow. 

 

They entered M’s office without knocking or asking Miss Moneypenny permission to do it. River and Q knew very well that it must be serious when he called them back after a bare hour, while he said ‘afternoon’ before. It still was morning. 

They found him staring out of the window, impatient and waiting for the agents and the Quartermaster to arrive with his hands clasped behind his back. He surely had some hot news and updates on Bengochea he was eager to tell them, and that was why he had called them in so early. Only it was strange that Q didn’t know about anything, and he _always_ knew everything and monitored every move of each of his agents and enemies. As he registered the sound of the door opening and quick, coordinated steps behind him, he turned to face them. There was a solemn expression in his face, which didn’t change even when he saw River. Mallory walked to his desk and took the same file he showed River before in his hands, opening it. Then, he handed it to Bond, who stepped forward a pace and took it. He was the only one of them four to know nil about the mission that was ahead of them. 007 cursorily read what was written in it, and in the meantime, M beckoned to River and Q to walk to the other side of the desk so they could read everything he intended to show them. No one said a word. They didn’t need to. 

M did not sit down and opened a browser window on his computer, leaning his left hand, in which he was not holding the mouse, on the chair backrest. River stood on his right; her hip brushing against his. She rested both her hands on the desk and files lying on it, looking at the screen. Q had no other choice than to stand on the left side. He crossed his hands on his chest, pressing his slid-down spectacles back on the bridge of his nose. They could see a paused security camera record on the screen. In the midst of the blurred image, there was a dark haired man in a white suit, obviously holding a gun with a silencer on in his hand, not dissimilar to Bengochea. They both saw the photo and the man’s face is one of those you cannot forget. 

Finally, River has spoken, asking M, “Can you play it, or is it a shot only?” Bond finished searching through the Spaniard’s file and joined M, Q and River at the computer. He recognised the man as Bengochea immediately. 

“No, unfortunately he has sent us only a photography, agent Song,” he answered her, continuing in the boss-agent pretence he insisted on playing in front of the other, even though everyone in MI6 knew. He straightened himself up and looked at her. There were some unpleasant or unexpected – or both at once – news to incoming surely, she thought. And she was right. “It’s from one of our allied agents in Madrid, twenty minutes ago. This is captured on Calle Lope de Vega, approximately 700 metres far from Palacio de Comunicaciones, where is he, according to our contact, heading. Our contact also has his own contacts among officials and politicians on top posts, from whom he had learnt that he is attempting to assassinate the Mayor of Madrid herself. I need you and 007 in Madrid _right now_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read _Fuente Ovejuna_ by Lope de Vega by the way. And I was in Madrid 4 yrs ago, so I know it a little. It's set in there cos my mum's in Spain now (not in Madrid tho, I wouldn't do sth like that to her, I mean, terrorists... I'm not risking anything)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna be six chapters long after all.  
> The first part of this one is more humourous and the other is 'deadly serious' again. I sometimes need to make fun of the characters... or sth they're doing.

River hated aeroplanes. Not because she was afraid of them, never that, and frankly, she did not understand humans’ aerophobia at all. Flying was an amazing experience after all! No, it was because using a plane to get somewhere was damn _slow_. It might have been the fastest way on Earth, but still slow. 

Bengochea was 700 metres away from his target an hour and a half ago, the Mayor is probably dead by now and the criminal surely took plenty of hostages. They needed to be in Madrid an hour and fifty minutes ago. Planes were just slow. If she had a choice, she would use the TARDIS; however, no one from MI6 must know about her – correction, the Doctor’s – space-time ship. That would be excessively dangerous secret to reveal to an intelligence agency. Thus, she was on board an airliner from Heathrow to Madrid, sitting between James Bond, who was currently stuffing himself with barbecued chicken wings and coleslaw, and an old woman reading The Times. The fact they were on a mission to stop a Spanish assassin from perpetrating a crime he most probably already perpetrated clearly did not stop him from enjoying his early lunch. 

Bond sensed her staring at him and his chicken wings and looked at her. He knew it was bothering her, that however did not make him leave the food alone and he took another wing. “You want some?” he asked, pointing the wing in her direction, cocking his eyebrow. River leant toward him and replied, whispering, “Believe me that I could stab you in the aorta and let you bleed slowly until you die with a tiny chicken bone. So if you don’t start taking this seriously as it is, I swear I will do it.”

“Does that mean no?”

“Yes, that means no, Bond. We don’t want to cause this nice lady over here any discomforts, do we?” she said, returning to her original position. James, nevertheless, only shrugged and took a bite of the wing, followed by two mouthfuls of salad. That made River roll her eyes and focus her gaze on people opposite row. Fortunately for her, the plane was about to land on Spanish soil any minute, so she did not have to worry about the double-oh and his appetite for much longer. “I still think we should have taken a TARDIS.”

She mumbled that note under her breath, yet Bond overheard her anyway and answered with a question, “A what?” He was chewing on the coleslaw, so it sounded more like _A wo?_

“Nothing. Top secret tech, not even Q knows about it. I cannot say anything, forget you ever heard the name. And better hurry with the wings, we’re going to land.”

In less than five minutes, the flight attendant announced the passengers to fasten their seatbelts, turn of all means of communication, such as tablets and mobile phones, which could interfere with the signal sent from control tower and _not eat anything during the landing_ through the radio, first in English and then in Spanish. However, it was English both times for River, due to her connection with the TARDIS and its translation matrix. 

 

The check-in took longer than pleasant due to the immigrant crisis and recent terrorist attacks. All of Europe was highly secured, policed and all transfer was restricted, but that somehow did not stop Bengochea from completing his task. He managed to get through the city centre more or less unnoticed by police, only MI6’s spy ally has gotten to the camera records and made the mission possible. Thank God. Of course, it is not going to be successful if airport staff and security will not let them get out as quickly as possible. They had to ask questions. M had strictly prohibited using a psychic paper, hallucinogenic lipstick or any kind of sonic device (yes, he knew), which did not exactly make things easier. 

 

River and Bond managed to get out of the airport turmoil at last and now they were in front of the building, where a car and a driver in a black suit similar to Bond’s was waiting for them. They understood it was the agent and got on the car. This was the part when they had to turn the communicators in their ear on. From then, the mission in stopping Bengochea was their only concern and they had to act upon the Quartermaster’s orders. 

“No flirting through the comm, Bond, remember that I can hear everything,” she reminded Bond of sticking to the rules of every mission for Queen and Country, when the car pulled away. She knew very well that they often have private talks through the radio when apart for a long time, but she didn’t want to have to listen to Bond and Q’s flirtatious duels of words when she was a part of it as well. She had enough of it in Q-Branch, moreover she never had private conversations with her boyfriend via communicators when on mission either.

“As you say, ma’am,” he replied, deadpan. The driver pretended not to listen to the agents’ conversation while they were driving toward the City Hall. 

 

The drive wasn’t long. As they approached the City Hall, they sighted many police cars and ambulances outside it. They could only hope that that means it is not too late yet and that maybe, if luck was on their side that day, the Mayor is still alive and they can still take this as another successful mission. On the other hand, it could also mean that they _were_ late, as River thought since the moment she had seen the photo on Gareth’s computer. 

007 and she got out of the black car when it ran on the kerb at Paseo del Prado, the street on which’s corner the building stood. The Spanish agent had parked it behind a police car. Of course, police officers ran to the spies immediately and started to jabber some orders and warnings in Spanish. River, thanks to her origin, understood every word and explained that they are working for the British Government in fluent Spanish just as the officers, who had some good and bad news for them. 

Mayor Carmena was still alive, but held hostage. Three members of the City Council were dead and other five wounded. River quite failed to comprehend this – why didn’t Bengochea kill everyone as soon as he got there? It was as if he was waiting for MI6 to arrive. It was strange.

The officers had to let River and Bond in. The city’s safety was at stake and it was the highest of priorities to prevent the worst from happening. The spies burst into the City Hall through the front door, Bond holding his Walther in his hands and aiming it at the space in front of him. River pulled her laser gun out as she was inside and they both searched the reception for signs of fighting, blood or even people, dead or alive.

“Q, the Mayor’s location, if you were so nice and ascertain it,” River said to the Quartermaster, walking toward a staircase. She suspected that Bengochea and the hostages were going to be in the upper floors. 

_“Just a second, agent Song, I’m working on bypassing the security protocols inside the building,”_ he replied and River could hear his fingers tapping the keyboard swiftly. _“It is to be expected that such building as the City Hall of Madrid is going to be highly secured. I need that to get into its plans and camera records. Ah, I’m in, it wasn’t even that difficult--”_

“Hurry up and just tell me their position!” River shouted at the Quartermaster impatiently. Bond set out to the other wing and stopped minding River. Never mind, she could cope on her own just as perfectly. The thing was that 007 did not contact Q, thus he hasn’t heard what he had said.

_“Second floor, right wing, they’re in one of the studies. Go up the stairs and then turn right. Oh, and please tell 007 to turn on his communication device.”_

“Can’t it be remote-controlled?” River objected to Q’s request and almost ran the stairs up. She turned right as Q told her, her gun activated in front of her, ready to hit anything or anyone River intended to shoot. Luciano Bengochea specifically. 

_“Yes, but—yes. Proceed forwards, agent Song. Be quick and don’t mess up. Bond is online and receiving. Follow River, Ja—007!”_ This time he almost let it slip, but he quickly corrected himself. River had to smile. 

She did not wait for Bond to catch up with her and went to the room where Bengochea was hiding right away. There were two of his men (of whose presence Q said nothing) in front of the office that River had to shoot. She was cold about murdering, she always has been. That was why working for MI6 suited her as a job perfectly. In fact, she was raised to be a murderous psychopath and to kill the Doctor, her future husband. Which she did. No one at Six knew, not even Gareth. The only thing he knew was that she certainly killed _someone_ at some point of her long life. Of course, no one knew how long it actually was. 

When the men slid down on the floor, she was about to kick the wooden door open and dash in, she caught a glimpse of Bond running toward her. It might be safer for them and the hostages to both get inside at the same time. It was what Q said, after all. 

She waited for 007 and when he got to the door, she stepped back, gesturing that he is the one to smash down the door and counting to three on her hand. Her grip round her handgun tightened, and on the count of three, Bond smashed down the thick door. She rather admired that he managed to do it on first try; it was relatively heavy and solid. As they broke in, they saw four people, two men and two women, kneeling on the floor, terrified and broken. Above them, there were four armed men aiming pistols at them. The one who was pressing a gun barrel on the Mayor’s head was Bengochea. He knew they were coming and he was waiting for them indeed. River was right. Was there a mole at MI6 or among their external allied agents? M hasn’t said anything about the Spaniard not being alone. Perhaps he did not know. How?

Both River and Bond froze for a millisecond as they entered the study. They knew that if they did something, like tried to shoot on of Bengochea’s men or contact Q again, he would not hesitate to order them to blow off the councillor’s heads. What could they do? Negotiation and attempting to make an agreement was one option, though unlikely. A quick and well-coordinated attack, with which they would risk the councillor’s life, was another. They had to choose quickly. River felt that they did not have more than thirty seconds before the terrorists would act. She knew the type of the men they were; they were capable of waiting for hours, keeping all hostages alive and in fear just to kill them in cold blood a minute after the rescue squad or spies like River and James arrive to save them. 

What’s it gonna be?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a while to write, I had no inspiration or ideas what might they do. I don't write by a script or something, I just sit at the computer, write something and while I do it, ideas come to me and then I often find out it doesn't go according my plans. I planned this to be a oneshot with River and M and it somehow turned into a 6-chapters-long piece about fulfilling a mission. Nothing that I had planned, seriously.

She made a quick decision and chose to risk. There was no way for Bengochea to get out of this alive. Gareth said dead or alive. He would probably be more satisfied with this mission if they managed to bring him alive, on the other hand… 

River confirmed her and Bond’s thoughts by nodding her head shortly, looking into the other agent’s eye. They knew what they had to do. And they had to be utterly precise now, just as they were trained to. Not to miss the target even for a millimetre. She was very thankful that she talked Bond out of drinking wine on the plane. Not that she doubted his shooting skills when inebriated, he was capable of hitting the bull’s-eye every single time, no matter in what state was he in – she had learned that the first time Bond and she had met. 

She stepped forward, exhaled and fired. She had to get all men before they manage to pull the trigger and murder the councillors. The light-blue laser beams coming from her handgun hit three men’s heads and killed them immediately, the last one fell dead on the floor by cause of Bond firing his gun as well as River, yet not so quickly. 

This mission was not an utter debacle after all. One of a few after very long time. One of Bond’s few, to be precise. Of course, weren’t it of River, it probably wouldn’t end with a happy ending. She finally understood why Gareth sent her on that mission with Bond then, he knew exactly how this would go. 

There was no word that could capture the look on the Mayor’s face. It was something between relief, gratefulness and pure horror. She and two of her subordinate officials broke into tears as their captors fell on the floor with their brains scattered on the walls. River was not surprised; everyone would react that way if in the same situation. 

She and Bond quickly ran toward the people on the floor, crouched behind them and started to untie their hands. “We’re MI6, you can trust us,” said River as she manipulated the plastic shackles on the Mayor’s shaking hands. The Mayor could not know that they are spies for the British Government, they were complete strangers to her and she had to tell her. River needed the woman and her colleagues to trust her and 007, and that meant trusting them in return. 

“Q, reporting back: mission succeeded, repeat, mission succeeded. Bengochea and his accomplices are dead and Madam Carmena, the Mayor of Madrid, is alive and relatively well, given the circumstances,” she reported to the Quartermaster when she was helping the Mayor to stand up. Then she moved to cut the plastic strip binding one of the old councillor’s hands. The other two were on their feet already, talking about how scandalous this was instead of simply being glad they have survived, because they could be as well as dead. 

River heard Q breathe a sigh of relief and then he said, _“That’s good news. M is listening, you should see his face.”_ He even laughed a bit. Q wasn’t often unprofessional on the comms, yet this time, after what he has been through, it was not worth anything more than a laugh. He really wasn’t used on successfully accomplished missions. He might even get all the equipment he gave them back in one piece. For the first time with Bond. That would deserve a celebration. Nevertheless, better do not anticipate anything, there still was a flight ahead them. No one knew what could happen. _“Alright, clear the perimeter as fast as you can and do something about the bodies. I would advise you to bring them to Six for a post-mortem examination, but this is an undercover operation and we don’t need trouble with transport of six corpses via an airliner, so just leave them on place and take any evidence that might be used against the Queen and Country with you. Don’t leave any sign of your presence there, fingerprints especially. 007, agent Song, be careful. Oh, and do you want me to put M through?”_

“No, I think we don’t want to detain him from his duties. Moreover, we’re going to enjoy enough conversation in the evening, you bet,” River answered his question before Bond managed to step in and went to the dead bodies lying on the floor to search them for weapons, phones, bugs or any means of communication or any other suspicious objects, which Q might want to inspect. “Over.” She switched off her communicator and examined Bengochea’s pockets. The fourth councillor was free now and she sent them away to go to safety. 

They had to leave the weapons on the crime scene, other things however… She could not leave it there to be collected by local police and stored among other pieces of evidence. This case was more than just an ordinary attempted murder on a Mayor: terrorists and associates of Tiago Rodriguez’s, a former and traitorous MI6 agent, were involved in a possible conspiracy to kill off the entire _Cortes Generales_ and the Mayor of Madrid herself in order to install their men and themselves as councillors and rule the city and even all of Spain under the auspices of SPECTRE. That was more than police could resolve. 

They had only few more minutes before armed services break into the building and find them messing with corpses of rather influential entrepreneurs/terrorists. The officers knew they were inside, but they couldn’t prevent anyone else from entering the building. They did not know what happened inside or whether the Mayor is still alive. 

Bond understood what River meant when she looked at him while rummaging the second-man-on-the-left’s jacket and trousers pockets. She took a flash drive and his SPECTRE ring with an octopus-like engraving on it from Bengochea and the other man’s radio. Bond checked if someone is going their way and when he determined no one is, he ran to River and examined the other two men’s bodies. He clearly knew what he was looking for – River thought he actually might have read the file this time. It did not mention anything about accomplices, but he knew machinations of people like them after years of experience. 

He kept his unbiased and sober-sided face on while he was intently taking pieces of electronics and weaponry out of the men’s suits. River wanted to tell him to leave the guns, but she knew there wouldn’t be any point in doing so, so she decided to not mind him and focus on what she had to do. Firstly, she had to take everything that could be useful for gaining information she could. Secondly, she had to get out of there as soon as possible, with Bond next to her, if possible, and not cause any fuss or suspicion among the cops. Thirdly, she had to get to the airport and back home to London, to Gareth. She was looking forward to the dinner he promised her.

She wished this was over already, however, she was surprised that it went so easily and neither she nor Bond were injured, captured or tortured, as she rather expected when she heard she was signed on a mission with 007. It was how it usually went with him. Nevertheless, it wasn’t how it usually went with her, and that fact outweighed the usual course of action of 007’s missions. Fortunately. It still could have been worse, she thought. It could have been worse.

She had all equipment that she needed to take to Q-Branch and so did Bond, and that meant the only possible thing – they could go home at last. 

Both agents rose and went to the door – lying on the floor. There was no door now. They went past the men in the hallway, down the stairs and out of the building. Their ally still was there, waiting for them in the car parked round the corner. They got on, he started up the car and set off for the airport. What a service, right? She could get used to it. (Well, she did. She loved this life, she loved this job and she loved Gareth Mallory. It was no less exciting than her old life with the Doctor and his TARDIS. Quite the contrary, actually.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter at last. This one is just shippy, fluffy and happy. Hope you enjoyed, because I did enjoy writing this very much. :)

They were home, in London, by late afternoon. It was nice to stand on familiar ground, breathe familiar air and ride familiar roads. On the left. They weren’t gone for long time, but she already happened to miss the country that wasn’t even her birth place. Her parents’, yes, and that might be why she always felt like home there. In her fancy flat, in Kensington, with Gareth. It was pleasant to come back after a successful mission. A rather easy and short mission with no need for infiltrating the enemy’s milieu, seducing men or women in order to gain priceless information or taking part in a car chase while trying to shoot whoever that was chasing them and avoiding their bullets. It was practically a short holiday in capital of Spain, if she forgot about the murders. 

The black cab stopped at a white house in which River’s flat is located, she handed the driver enough pounds to pay for the way from Heathrow Airport to where they were now and got off the car. “That’s good,” she said as she closed the door. 

She probably should have gone to MI6 Headquarters to report from her mission, as Bond did, but she can do it next day as well; moreover, Bond went there mostly to see Q. She will see Gareth at home, so why would she go there, right? He couldn’t be that mad at her. And he promised her dinner somewhere high-class. She was actually looking forward to it, for she had not had a nice evening with a man that she loved in a city that she loved for years. The last time she did something like that was with the Doctor. 

She walked up the stairs, pulled the keys out of her handbag and unlocked the door. To her surprise, it was not locked at all. Someone was inside. Not many people knew where she lived, only Six agents—and that was the problem. Was there another mole? She had to be cautious. She took her laser gun into her right hand, activated it and carefully and slowly opened the door. The hallway seemed to be untouched and so did the living room. On the first sight. Then, when she entered the flat completely, she saw something, or someone, unexpected. In the dining area, the black table was laid perfectly: plates, cutlery, wine glasses and a bottle of red African wine. Gareth stood at the kitchenette, wearing a grey shirt, black suit trousers and an apron on it. He smiled as he saw her, but then sat up a little. She smiled too, but from a different reason from his, and then she realised she was pointing her gun at him. 

“Hello again, River. You could have killed me,” said Mallory and opened the oven to check on whatever was baking in it. Oh, he didn’t know. 

“You shouldn’t have gone to my flat without telling me then,” she replied, holstered the gun and stripped off her jacket, hanging it on a coat stand. She put her handbag on the sofa. “It’s pointless, only the grill works and with that you’d be baking that for hours and it would still be raw on the bottom. It’s the only fault in this place.”

She came closer to him and the oven and looked inside it to see what he was making for dinner. He said he would invite her somewhere, and then he breaks into her flat and _cooks_ the dinner? And then she remembered, Bond went to MI6, expecting to meet with M and give him report, which he rarely – well, never – did, and the Chief wasn’t there, because he was there, with her. Making – she peeped into the oven – some kind of casserole, by the look of it. She saw nothing, considering it was dish-covered. At least he could be with Q and no one would see them. M had eyes everywhere, and when he was out of Six, even some sort of privacy could be found there. Once, when he had to go to Vienna to a UN meeting, they could practically do what they wanted and no one had caught them. Even Eve was more friendly and lenient when she did not have to listen to his orders. However, River missed that order. And Gareth. That was two weeks before they got together.

“I wondered why it takes so long. I wanted the meal to be a surprise after you come back from Madrid. That reminds me, was Bond that much of a pain in the arse as usual or he restrained himself in your presence?” Gareth took the casserole out and laid it on the countertop. River turned off the oven and opened the dish-cover. It was hot, but she was trained, so she didn’t mind. The cover revealed dark brown beef and vegetables in juice. It smelled and looked nice, as a typical British meal she didn’t eat very often, yet loved. The only shame was it was undercooked and there was nothing much that they could do with it, which was a shame.

“He actually proved to be useful. He listened to Q’s orders, returned all equipment in one piece and even went to HQ state a report. The only inappropriate thing he did, Gareth, was stuffing up with chicken wings and coleslaw en route to Madrid,” she answered matter-of-factly and put the cover back on the dish. They could eat it as a soup, omitting the meat, or take it to the neighbours’ to cook it well; nothing more could be done with the casserole. 

On the other hand, they still could dispose of it and order a pizza or Chinese takeaway, but that wouldn’t be that romantic anymore. That, or a sandwich, would be what River ate every weekday at one am, when she had a break at MI6 and could go to the nearest park, sit on the grass with other lunching people and enjoy her baguette or toast, a salad, some noodles or fish and chips.

“Ah, that doesn’t sound like Bond at all,” Gareth nodded. He pointed his gaze at the dish and said, “That was a waste of good beef and vegetables. Hell, I run an intelligence service; I should have known your oven is haywire.” 

“You never cared or asked. Honestly, I thought you couldn’t cook.” She looked him in the eye. She _knew_ he couldn’t cook. 

“I guess you don’t know me that well yet. Anyway, what do we do now? About the dish.”

“Oh, I don’t know, we could give it to Mrs. Parish from third floor and order a pizza,” River suggested and reached up to give Gareth a peck on the cheek. She ran a hand through her hair, took her court shoes off and sat on the sofa heavily. It was a rather hard day and she was tired. She almost felt like… a human. “And really now, tell me, where did you learn how to make casserole?” 

“I… had help. On the phone. From my friend, you don’t know her--”

“From who?” River asked curiously, interrupting her boyfriend. She looked his direction. 

“Just my friend, her name is Kate Stewart, I said, you don--” She didn’t expect to hear that. Kate Stewart, head of science department at United Nations Intelligence Taskforce? Really?

“You know Kate Stewart?” she interrupted him again. 

“ _You_ know Kate Stewart?” he repeated, not knowing of her adventures with the Doctor and her parents. 

“I met her few times, my parents worked with her for some time,” she answered and sighed deeply. She truly was tired. She needed a nap. 

“You never mentioned your parents. They worked as spies for UNIT?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. Where do you know her from, Gareth?” She didn’t want to speak about Amy and Rory. It was too painful for her; and she could not just tell him about the Weeping Angels or about what happened in New York. 

“She works for UNIT, it’s logical I know her, I know everyone in there. Intelligence service as intelligence service, right?” 

“I suppose that _is_ logical. Anyway, what do you say about the pizza? I’d love to go somewhere and I’d love to taste your casserole, but I’m terribly tired and the only thing I want to do right now is cuddle to you on this sofa, drink wine and watch telly,” she said, realising she even _sounded_ too English. London became her home indeed. 

“That sounds as a perfect evening to me. Believe me, it was no less exhausting day at the office than in the field. I had a visit from the Home Secretary, there was an explosion in Q-Branch and Tanner literally overloaded me with paperwork,” replied Gareth, washing his hands, and then he walked to River and sat next to her; that white apron he was wearing off already. He put an arm around her. She laid her head on his chest, closed her eyes for a second and breathed in the smell of beef and carrot that clung to his hair and clothes. How long had he occupied himself making that meal? 

She listened to his heartbeat, to its simplicity. It was not double and nor was hers. 

“Pizza will do,” he said after a moment of silence. He rested his head on River’s, too lazy to get up and get his mobile at once. They were comfortable the way they were sitting on that sofa now. Sun was still lightening the flat, which smelled of the casserole, they were warm, happy, and tired and one would say that they are just a normal couple of people who work in an office or something. Which they did, in a way. 

“Gareth, I’m actually starving, I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, and I would really love to have the pizza as soon as possible,” she uttered exhaustedly and lifted her head, looking Gareth Mallory in the eye again. 

“Alright, I’m calling a pizzeria already,” he riposted, kissed River shortly and got up. She heard her stomach rumble, that didn’t happen very often with her Time Lord system. 

She smiled. She was happy, although she never expected to be anymore, let alone under these circumstances.

“You know what? We could go on a double date with James and Andrew sometimes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrew is Q, in case you didn't realise.  
> Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> [you can find me on Tumblr](http://tardis-on-221b-qbranch.tumblr.com/)


End file.
